"I had my moments," Carrick replied almost wistfully. It hadn't been the first time he'd been told that, especially since Spartan battle helmets concealed most of the face except the mouth and chin.
Carrick's own hand began to stroke himself. He hardened quickly at the thought of Russ writhing under his lips and hands.
"Yes... yes, I'd like to watch you. Watch as you gasp and moan; as your cock swells and your body shines with sweat."
His thumb moved over the head of his own cock, spreading the bead of precum that welled at the tip.
"I'd like to watch you fuck yourself. I want to see you thrust your fingers inside yourself and imagining it's me." Carrick closed his eyes. "Do that for for me, now. I want to hear it."